


This game we play

by Fallenprinceloki



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Cussing, Here be sexy times, M/M, Minor Violence, Rating: M, Rough Sex, Veld is a biter, Vincent has a dirty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23799514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenprinceloki/pseuds/Fallenprinceloki
Summary: Veld has this game he likes to play. A game of cat and mouse and his favorite Turk is the mouse. He lays the perfect trap, baits it and waits for the game to start.
Relationships: Turk Vincent - Relationship, Vincent Valentine/Veld
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	This game we play

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so please forgive me for this. I haven't written anything for a long time, probably over 2 years. This just hit me like a like a truck while I was playing FFVII Remake and I had to scribble it down. It is likely not to follow any kind of timeline within the FFVII fandom, but I like it. It's smutty. So please enjoy Turk Vincent and Veld. Also, I suck at summaries as well as I do actually writing anything. So it'll suck. But it's a good suck at least right?

It had become a thing. Veld and Vincent. He loved to watch the raven-haired Turk lose himself as he was pushed against the desk. Veld liked that power play. Vincent was cold, quiet and calculated. He did his job with brutal efficiency and was revered for his craft. He was well on his way to legendary status and Veld absolutely loved taking advantage of it. Vincent was a man of little words. He spoke soft and yet his words always sharp. People listened. No one asked questions. He loved getting Vincent to show a hint of frustration, a little quiver of his lip when being questioned about a mission. He loved that those crimson eyes burned like embers at the thought of anyone questioning him. He loved that Valentine took orders so well. He was his perfect Turk plaything and he absolutely adored it. 

It wasn’t uncommon for Vincent to be called to Veld’s office. Today he knew Valentine was itching for a mission with more substance than he’d been given in the past. He had an itchy trigger finger. Vincent passed fellow Turks, many lower ranks than him on his way. Most didn’t say much to him. Others seemed almost afraid of him except one. He was jealous. Jealous because Vincent didn’t have to climb his way up the ranks to be on top and was simply recruited in at his rank and he adapted fast. That Turk was tasked to make sure no one went to see Veld. Under any circumstances so when Vincent arrived at his polished black door, they meet eye to eye.   
“Veld isn’t seeing anyone today.” He snapped, holding a hand up to Vincent’s chest.

The hall went silent, all eyes on them. Vincent looked down at the hand before shaking his head. “No pulling rank either.” 

He added it as if to add insult to injury. Vincent returned his eyes to the Turk telling him no and stared. Red eyes burning against a curtain of side swept hair, black as the deepest pits of Shinra secrets. With speed unmatched he grabbed his hand, bent it and squeezed, twisting hard enough to force his body to follow then shoved him against the wall. 

“If you could read, you’d see that Veld had sent for me.” Vincent said calmly.

The Turk whimpered with his arm twisted painfully behind his back so he couldn’t get away. Vincent referring to the message they all received on their PHS regarding orders for the day. Vincent leaned his weight into him making him cry out.

“But it seems you have had this coming for a long time.” Vincent said softly, twisting the hand in his so not only to break the wrist, but the arm too.

Releasing him, he left Veld’s ill-fitting door guard howling in pain. Letting him fall to the ground he straightened his suit and looked to the Turk of next rank.   
“Gregory, this post is now yours.” Nodding the new Turk stepped up and opened the door for Vincent. “At least I didn’t pull rank.” His voice like venom as he entered the office, stepping over the injured Turk. Gregory closing the doors behind him and hearing a soft click. 

Vincent stood quietly by the door waiting for Veld to acknowledge him. Veld was on a call when his favorite toy…Turk walked in. Seeing him pause by the door he waved him over, pointing at the chair in front of his desk. Watching as Vincent crossed the high polished floor. The way Vincent moved always stirred his belly. His narrow form hiding under that tailored suit, barely. Veld knew what was under it. How soft that milky skin was under his grip. How loud that soft baritone could be. Licking his lips, he watched as he sat on the leather chair back straight as a rod before he crossed his legs. Waiting for Veld to finish his call. 

Of course, Veld found it hard to concentrate with Vincent there now. The person on the other line even asked if Vincent was there and when he nodded with a slight tug at his lips, he turned his chair away from him. “Yes.” He answered simply. With a few more short replies the call ended, and he spun back around to hang up the phone, meeting eyes with Vincent.

“What was the commotion outside?” He asked knowingly.  
“A Turk who forgot his place.” Vincent answered coolly. It was done on purpose, sort of. Veld chose stations and watched Vincent work from his own video surveillance camera on his computer.  
“Broken arm?” He asked, knowing the answer once again.  
“Sir, I believe you already know the answer to that.”   
He did. Veld nodded. “I do. But I wanted to hear it from you.”   
Veld was prodding. Trying to get on his subordinates’ nerves. That’s when it was the best between them, when there was tension and irritation and Gaia did he love it when Vincent’s cool exterior broke to his annoyance.  
“Broken arm and wrist. Six weeks of light duty.” He replied, his soft voice razor sharp with his answer.   
Standing, Veld walked to his office window and let out a mock sigh of irritation. Clasping his hands behind his back, he rocked on his heels and watched the others on the helipad.   
“That means I am one Turk shy for tomorrow’s mission to Kalm.”   
Vincent said nothing.  
Turning to face his stoic Turk he walked back over to his desk and leaned against it.   
“And he’s out for six weeks? Hmm…I should put you in his place.”  
Vincent rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat. The movement was barely noticeable but the eye roll, that was the ticket.  
“I have my own mission.”   
“No. You have a new mission now. Escort mission in Kalm.”  
There is was. That little flash of fire in those crimson embers. The slight furrow of brows and the twitch of his trigger finger. Veld had him and he loved this game they played.   
“Sir…”

Veld pushed a button the remote of his desk to draw the shades. It was said he only did that during private meetings. To those who were watching it meant nothing more than the meeting he was in required the utmost privacy. This was a meeting he planned on making last.   
Standing straight he waved his hand Vincent, effectively dismissing his questioning tone. That was the final straw. Vincent stood up to his full height and Veld smirked. 

“Sir…you’re doing this to punish me?” Veld knew those eyes were dangerous, he knew what Vincent was capable of in the field. He was ruthless and very effective. But there, in his office? He was a toy and only there did Veld have the upper hand. Vincent wouldn’t let himself strike a superior and he would use it.  
Veld used that moment to close the space between them, getting so close his nose could touch Vincent’s. 

“Call it that.” He teased. There he heard the low threatening growl deep in the gunner’s chest. He knew he was going to protest and give him all the reasons why he shouldn’t abandon his own mission that he was scheduled to leave on before sunrise. Vincent exhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring.

“Veld…” That baritone like honeyed whiskey carried with it a warning tone and Veld didn’t care. He knew he could change it very quickly. Moving like lightening, Veld reached out to grab under Vincent’s jaw with a firm grip.

“What Mr. Valentine?” He asked. “What would you like to say?” 

Vincent inhaled deeply, looking Veld deep in the eyes and watching as he continued to hold him and stepped behind him, pressing his body against Vincent’s back.   
“Sir….” His voice softened and he closed his eyes.

Veld had him exactly where he wanted. Whatever Vincent had to do today would have to wait. Pressing his nose to the back of his neck, kissing him softly while his free hand roamed to the front of Vincent’s trousers, deft fingers unfastening his belt and fumbling with the button and zipper until he got them free. In turn Vincent’s cheeks flushed a dark pink against his alabaster skin, his hands flexing at his sides yearning to grip something. 

This was indeed a game they played, and he should have seen it coming. He hated that Veld could always get him exactly where he wanted him. Vincent also hated how much he couldn’t deny him. No one knew about these private exchanges, no one dared to ask either and if they did know, they didn’t speak of it. How he hated that he was always a bug caught in Veld’s spider web and with that well-placed kiss to his neck and under his ear, Vincent’s composure was breaking fast. He felt his superiors hand worming its way into his pants, grasping at his hardening cock. 

“I love that you wear no underwear Vincent.” Veld whispered against his ear. It made him gasp softly and reach for Veld’s hand. 

“Veld…sir…” 

He loved it when he called him Sir. It made these little endeavors even better. This little game of cat and mouse. Today however, this was a little different. He could feel the tension in Vincent’s back, the way his shoulders held the stress of his job.

“Vincent…you need to relax.” He whispered, biting his neck earning a deep gasp from the usually quiet Turk. This was exactly what he loved to hear. Vincent coming undone under him, watching that usual taciturn man lose himself to Veld. He pushed his body into Vincent to make him move forward until they were closer to the desk. Finally, he released his jaw and pushed between his shoulder blades. Vincent let out a soft yelp of surprise and caught himself on the large mahogany desk. 

Vincent looked back at Veld, seeing his predatory smile as he reached in his pocket. Veld pulled out the small bottle of lube and finished yanking Vincent’s trousers down until they acted like shackles around his ankles. Letting out a low whistle of appreciation, he gave one pale mound a squeeze making Vincent stiffen and try again to turn back to see him. 

“Oh no pet. Stay.” Veld growled. “You are beautiful.” 

He watched a flash of indignation flashed across Vincent’s features, flipping his long bangs out of his face. Vincent hated being called beautiful because he never saw how others saw him. How Veld currently saw him, bent over his desk with his ass out and legs bare, suit pulling across his back to the limits of the fabric and thread. His soft features, full lips and red eyes were a sight to behold and he considered anyone who saw his face before their death lucky indeed. 

But today, Vincent was playing hard to get whether he was doing it intentionally or not and it lit a fire in Veld’s loins that only a good round of sex could cure. Keeping Vincent in place with one hand, he flipped the bottle top open and smothered his fingers in the clear lube he kept on his person just for occasions like this.

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” Vincent asked, eyes burning and voice sharp as steel. He tried to push back against Veld or wiggle out of his way, but Veld held fast.

“Yes. We are. I need you relaxed Valentine.” He purred, rubbing his fingers together. He watched as Vincent tried to get away, though it was a piss poor attempt honestly. He knew Vincent was faster and stronger than he was, and it simply wouldn’t take much to offset this balance. But, he didn’t and instead more of his frosty demeanor broke in his words, he could see him let out a frustrated breath and blow his bangs out of his face again.

“You shouldn’t frown.” Veld purred, sliding his lubed-up fingers between those two perfect mounds of flesh. He watched Vincent’s cheeks burn deeper as he bit the corner of his lip. If he could see himself like this, he’d finally understand why so many people find him irresistible. Circling that tight ring hidden by his perfect ass, Veld leaned down over his back and nibbled on his ear. 

“I…do not need…to relax.” Vincent snapped, letting go of a deep moan in his chest. His eyes fluttered closed and he tried in vain to move his ankles apart, but his damn pants wouldn’t allow it.

“But you do and so do I…it has been all work and no play lately.” Veld teased. Those cracks were becoming crevasse in Vincent’s demeanor. He was almost through it.   
With his body and those teasing fingers keeping Vincent in place he reached under them and unzipped the Turk’s coat, assisting Vincent out of it and tossing it carelessly on the floor. Next was that crisp white shirt, he watched as Vincent dipped his head to watch as he undid the buttons one by one. He wouldn’t remove it, but he needed Vincent to have moving room. Lastly, was the tie. Veld only loosened it. He planned on using it. 

Veld bit his neck now that he could get to it and earned him the prettiest sound of the day. He chuckled against the heated skin and pushed a finger into that tight ring. Vincent hissed and bit his lip as Veld slowly moved that finger. He watched as the gunman curled his hands into fists, his head dropping to his chest again. Yeah, he knew how to get Vincent back on his side. How to mold that clay that was most treasured Turk. Slowly, he moved in a second finger and started that slow stretch to warm him up.   
Vincent jerked his head again to get the hair out of his face, tilting it enough for Veld to have better access. He hated how much he loved this. Of course, he wasn’t never going to let his boss know any of this. Ever. As a third finger was pushed in Vincent bucked his hips, gasping loudly. His fingers dug into his palms and now he officially gave up on trying to keep his hair out of his face.

“I…have a mission…tomorrow…” He moaned, back arching. The addition of that third finger sent a column of fire up his spine and he couldn’t hold back the deep moans falling from his lips. Veld loved this; he knew it. Good thing his office was soundproof because he could illicit sounds from Vincent that he would never wish anyone else to hear. He pushed back against those fingers and dropped to his elbows, gasping softly at the angle change. 

“I know you do Valentine.” Veld replied, licking his lips when Vincent dropped to his elbows. Removing his fingers, he heard the whine from his Turk as he looked back to see him slicking up his fingers and palm before his hand disappeared again.

“But I cannot send you on this mission if you can’t relax. You’ll miss.” He said calmly, sliding his cock to barely touch that hot ring he just worked open.  
Just like that, the last bit of his façade had broken, his frustrations peaked.

Vincent growled and shot back a look that burned with the deepest hellfire. 

“I never miss.” He spat. “Let me…” His voice was stopped with a sharp cry when Veld speared into that tight hole until his pelvis was flush against Vincent’s sweet bottom. Vincent shook and tried in vain to catch his breath, but Veld wasn’t going to have it. Not today. He gave him just enough time to get used to the intrusion before he started his slow, deep thrusts.

Vincent couldn’t finish his words no matter how much venom they held and Veld knew it. Vincent never missed, that was true enough. He knew they both needed this despite Vincent’s little fights about it. Grunting softly, he adjusted his stance between the gunner’s feet and set his pace a little faster making sure to find that little bundle of nerves that take his favorite Turk to new highs. He knew he found it when Vincent’s breath caught in his throat and was finished with a choked cry. He aimed for it as it were a target at target practice. Vincent’s baritone voice was cracking and quivered with every low moan, those sounds were like a beacon for his cock as he drove it home on each thrust. Growling, Veld hooked his fingers in those narrow hips and pulled him back into him. Vincent cried out sharply, back arching deeply. Veld never knew how Valentine became so flexible but to see him arch and writhe, it was one for the books and it never got old to watch. If he wasn’t standing on his pants to keep his feet planted, he was sure by now he’d have a knee on the desk  
.   
“V-Veld…” Vincent panted, his heart pounding its own song against his ribs. 

“Fuck Vincent.” He growled, fumbling for Vincent’s necktie. 

Thing with Vincent was he liked it rough and so did Veld. It was part of their power play but, Vincent loved it when his boss would grab his tie and give it a tug. Oh yeah, Vincent Valentine was a closeted freak in the sheets. Or in this case, freak on the desk. He always came the hardest when Veld would pull that tie and Gaia only knew how much he liked to do it.

“I…I’m…” Vincent’s eyes fluttered closed, lost in a barrage of moans. “Close.”

Good because so was he. Wrapping that black tie around his fist Veld gave it a warning tug, watching as Vincent’s nails dug into the desk, his head raising to give a very slight nod. It was Veld’s way of asking permission. Permission he got and at the right time because his own release was coming far faster than he expected. He pulled that tie enough to hear the pants become shorter and harder to attain, soon as he heard the struggle, he held it there making sure to hit that pleasure center with unforgiving thrusts pounded him into his large desk. 

Vincent gasped for air, his own member leaking onto the floor with overwhelming pleasure. Biting his lips his nostrils flared, his body tensing. Legs shaking and nails digging and scratching into the lacquered surface of his bosses’ desk. He could hear Veld behind him grunting louder, lights flickered behind Vincent’s eyes each time he closed them. When he came, it was hard and ruthless. He gasped out Veld’s name, bucked hard into his pelvis and arched deep, painting the front of Veld’s desk with his own pleasure. Veld rode it out with his punishing thrusts until he couldn’t any longer, releasing deep into Vincent his own hips faltered and pushed hard and deep into him, growling out his last name.   
Releasing the necktie and dropping over Vincent, arms shaking as he held himself above his favorite Turk. Veld couldn’t help but look down to see Vincent laying on his chest against his desk. Cheeks stained pink and lips a dark red from biting them so much, taking deep breaths to replenish what he lost, Veld noticed that for the first time since entering his office, his eyes were a dull red. It made him chuckle because he knew it to be the color of a man well fucked. 

Vincent closed his eyes and let his body try to come down off its high when he felt Veld slowly slide out of him. He was overly sensitive, he winced and groaned with what little voice he had left. Feeling a kiss to his neck and ear he opened his eyes again to see that silly grin plastered on Veld’s face again. 

“Fuck you.” He groaned, not quite ready to move from his spot. 

“No, looks like I fucked you.” Veld said with a laugh, massaging Vincent’s back and hips to coax him to try to stand.

Finally, Vincent started to stand, lifting himself onto his palms before finally standing up right, nearly toppling over when it felt like all the blood from his cock rushed back to his head. Veld held him tight though, kissing his cheek and neck again and holding him until Vincent had his balance back.

“I hope you left my things in your shower…” Vincent quipped, slowly bending down to reach for his trousers before finally just kicking them off. There was no way he’d be able to wear them out of that office without others knowing what they did.

“Of course I did. Want to take my private exit?” 

The fire was back. 

“No, I want to walk out the front door with cum running down my thighs for the world to see.”  
Veld grinned.  
“I mean…we can do that.”   
“Private exit. Now.” 

Veld put himself back together and got Vincent a pair of Shinra sweatpants from his storage closet. He leaned on the desk, watching his disheveled Turk try to get himself put back together. He drank up the sight as he slid on the sweatpants. Cum was indeed starting to ooze down his thighs. Muttering under his breath he gathered his coat, removing his tie and folding his pants he carried them with his shoes as he padded barefoot to the hidden door. Veld gathered up some paperwork and his bag, turning to head to the door before pausing only to take in the sight before him. Vincent stood there waiting for him, his shirt wrinkled and still open to that bare chest, sweats hanging dangerously low on those fine hips, cheeks still a pretty pink and his hair a chaotic mess. Very opposite of the Vincent everyone else knew.   
Together they left through the private entrance of his office.

Oh, how he loved their little game.


End file.
